


Private Eye

by enjoy_acne



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Biomedical Engineer!Merlin, Coroner!Roxy, Dialogue Heavy, Eye Surgeon!Harry, Jokes about murder, M/M, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Police Detective!Eggsy, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, Some Plot, There will be puns later, You Have Been Warned, alternative universe, casual mentions of blood gore and violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2018-04-30 05:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5152901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjoy_acne/pseuds/enjoy_acne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy Unwin is a police detective on forced leave after becoming an integral part of capturing violent drug crime lord Dean Baker.  After Dean threatens Eggsy in court, junior coroner Roxanne Morton forces him to go on leave and hide until the Baker court case is settled. </p><p>Knowing better than to argue with a woman who cuts up dead people for a living, Eggsy rents out an apartment in another town and consults on police cases where possible, all while trying to relax.</p><p>His plans for relaxation are thrown out the window when he develops a truly embarrassing crush on his new neighbour, Harry Hart.</p><p>Which is problematic because as far as Eggsy knows, Harry is most definitely in a relationship with a man named Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Why am I doing this again?”  Eggsy asked as he placed the last of his moving boxes down.

 

“Because he threatened to kill you and knew exactly where you lived,” Roxy replied, shifting a box from off of one of the dining chairs.

 

Eggsy shrugged.  “I’d have been fine.”

 

Roxy sat in the dining chair.  “One of his men rigged your car to _explode_.”

 

He rolled his eyes.  “I totally had it under control.”

 

“ _No Eggsy,_ you didn’t.”

 

Eggsy sighed before taking a seat next his friend.  “C’mon Rox, what the fuck am I gonna do?  I’m gonna be bored fuckin’ shitless.”

 

She placed her hand on his forearm reassuringly.  “You’ll still be able to work, you’ll just have to work from here, mostly.  And it’s only until the Dean Baker case blows over.”

 

“I know, I know.”  Eggsy slumped into his chair dejectedly.  “Promise you’ll skype me dead bodies?”

 

“Every single one,” she replied with a squeeze of his arm.

 

Eggsy took in a deep breath.  “A’right.  D’you want a beer?”

 

Roxy frowned.  “Don’t you want to unpack?  You only brought three boxes.”

 

He got up to walk to his refrigerator.  “Exactly.  The place came fully furnished, I only really needed my computer and my clothes.”

 

“Is one box just dedicated to your awful hat collection?”

 

“Fuck off.  Ale or a lager?”

 

“Ale, thanks.”  Roxy stood up to inspect the small two-storey townhouse.  “Pretty nice place you’ve got here.”

 

Eggsy handed her an ale.  “And in a swish as fuck neighbourhood too.  ”  He held out his own beer bottle.  “Cheers, Rox.  Here’s hoping one of my neighbours is a murderous sociopath.”

 

Roxy clinked her bottle.  “Aiming high as always, Eggsy.  Cheers.”

 

They both took a sip of their drinks.

 

“So, rom-com?”  Eggsy suggested.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

\---

 

Eggsy rolled his eyes at the film.  “Fuckin’ really?  As if a residential street is that fuckin’ well lit.”

 

“I know, right?”  Roxy replied with a scoff.  “She’s even carrying her groceries in a _paper bag,_ who even does that?  And she conveniently has some leafy greens sticking out of the top alongside a baguette, of all things!”

 

“And look!  Now they’re fuckin’ flirting with each other!  Jesus fucking christ, as if you’d ever speak to a perfect stranger,” he added.

 

They both fell silent for a moment.

 

“I hope they end up together,” Roxy eventually said quietly.

 

“Thank fuck, I already ship them so fuckin’ hard,” Eggsy replied with a laugh.

 

\---

 

Eggsy was cramming as many empty beer bottles as he could into a slightly too small brown cardboard box.

 

“Would you like any help?”  Roxy slurred tipsily.  

 

Eggsy picked up the box, a few bottles sticking out precariously from out the top.  “Nah, go on to sleep.  The guest room’s upstairs, first door on the left.”

 

“Good night, Eggsy.”

 

“See you in the morning, Rox.”

 

Eggsy carefully maneouvered his front door open and stumbled slightly in the tipsy walk towards his recycling bin, when he saw a man approaching the front door of the house next door.  He squinted.

 

The man had dark brown hair that was greying very slightly at the temples and the deep expression lines of someone who frowned too much.   _Probably a rich repressed fucker_.  He wore dark, thick framed glasses over what appeared to be dark brown eyes.   _Caucasian male, early fifties, maybe._  He had a navy blue lanyard with white writing tucked into the breast pocket of his well-fitting grey wool suit and while he couldn’t see the actual ID tag, Eggsy could see the large bold letters "PITAL" from the lanyard.   _Works at a hospital, then.  Most likely the eye and ear hospital, since it's the only one with those colours_.  He caught sight of a dark red-brown leather doctor's bag in his right hand and an umbrella in the other.   _Doctor maybe?_

 

The man seemed to realise he was being watched.  He turned to look at Eggsy.  “Good evening,” he said as he attempted to wave while holding an umbrella.

 

“‘Evening mate,” Eggsy replied as he tried to open the lid to his recycling bin.

 

“Would you like any help?”  The man asked politely.

 

 _Huh, a nice rich repressed fucker then._  Eggsy somehow managed to open the lid before dumping all the beer bottles in with several loud glass thunks.  “Nah, just managed it.  Thanks anyway.”

 

“Not to worry,” the man said with a pause.  “I’m Harry.”

 

“Eggsy.”

 

Harry gave a single nod.  “A pleasure, Eggsy.”

 

“Always am,” he replied with a wink.  

 

Harry smiled, as he opened his front door.  “Well, good night then, Eggsy.”

 

“‘Night Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is a random fuckin’ mess. 
> 
> Anyway, here’s hoping you’ll enjoy it. Not 100% sure where I’m going with this, which is basically the same way my last story was written, so fingers crossed that this’ll work out fine too, lol.
> 
> I’m also enjoy-acne on tumblr if you’d like to talk to me there.


	2. Chapter 2

Roxy was heating up some instant oatmeal when Eggsy stepped into his kitchen, rubbing at his eyes blearily.

 

“Good morning, Eggsy,” she said, already looking fresh and put together. “Shall I microwave you a bowl?"

 

“‘Morning, Rox. And yea, a’right, thanks.” He sat down at his dining table, cradling one side of his head with his hand. “Fuck, I’d kill for a coffee.”

 

Roxy placed a heated bowl of oatmeal in front of him before taking a seat next to him. “It would appear that you don’t have any.”

 

“Christ, then how the fuck do you look so fresh?”

 

“Because I drank the last of it,” she replied, raising her coffee mug cheekily.

 

He flashed her a look of mock-betrayal and attempted to snatch the coffee mug away from her. “Rox, how could you? I gave you beer and everything.”

 

Roxy gulped the rest of her coffee down and pressed an empty mug into his palm. “Some of us have to go to work this morning, so I’d say that some of us need it more than others.”

 

Eggsy wondered if she would hold it against him if he started sniffing at the last remnant of coffee at the bottom of the mug. ‘ _Course she fuckin’_ _would_ , he thought before placing the mug down and staring down at it forlornly. He picked up his spoon. “God, I miss work already. Who am I gonna talk to now?”

 

Roxy swallowed down a bite of her oatmeal. “How about you set up your computer and I’ll video conference you when I get to work?”

 

He stirred his oatmeal around. “Yeah, okay.”

 

She shoved at him. “Stop moping and eat something already.”

 

“Alright, alright!” He distracted himself with mouthfuls of oatmeal when Roxy’s phone buzzed. He instinctively looked at his own phone to check for the familiar police alert before realising. He glanced over at Roxy’s phone instead. “New case?”

 

She nodded, showing him the message. “Looks like another two bodies were brought in.”

 

“More Dean Baker victims?”

 

“I’m not willing to guess,” she replied between a bite of food, “I’ll let you know after I do the autopsy.”

 

“But you know they’re Dean Baker victims,” he said with his mouth half full.

 

“I know that I’ll refuse to make that assumption until I do the autopsy.” Her phone buzzed again and Eggsy glanced at his own phone again.

 

No new messages. Eggsy sighed, placing his phone down on the table. “Fuck, this is gonna take some getting used to.”

 

Roxy glanced over her messages and shook her head. “I better get going Eggsy, sounds like today’s going to be a long day.”

 

“Yeah, all good mate, go do what you gotta,” he replied, picking up their now empty bowls and placing them in the sink. “Gimmie a sec, I’ll walk you to the door.”

 

\---

 

Roxy’s overnight bag was slung over her shoulder. “Detective Unwin,” she said with a nod goodbye.

 

“Just plain ol’ Eggsy for now,” he replied glumly.

 

"Oh Eggsy, you can still consult on cases -"

 

“I know, I know,” he interrupted, “It’s just not the same, innit?”

 

“We just need to get the rest of Baker’s men in custody and then you can come back, alright?” Roxy stepped into her car. “Did you rent a car or are you just going to use your bike?”

 

“Just my bike for now, I’m hoping that it’ll make it harder to strap a car bomb to,” he replied with a laugh.

 

Roxy paused in thought. “Wouldn’t it be much easier to strap a car bomb -”

 

"Mate, just fuck off to work already!”

 

She laughed. “Alright, I’ll see you next weekend.”

 

“Go save the day, Doctor Morton.”

 

\---

 

 

Eggsy unpacked his few possessions by shoving the majority of his clothing into the small compartments of his closet and then meticulously hanging up his various SnapBack hats.

 

He stepped back to admire his organisational hat skills.  “Well this is a definite sign of fuckin’ boredom.”

 

He fell back into his bed and stared at the ceiling.

 

And that's when he heard the arguing.

 

Eggsy sat up, moving towards the sounds.

 

_Two men, definitely adults_ , he thought.

 

He shifted his curtains up slightly and saw Harry Hart standing in the second floor of his townhouse with a man Eggsy hadn't seen before.

 

_Bald, wears glasses, early fifties_.

 

The arguing had stopped. Both men looked angry, but resigned. _Roommates? Life partners?_ His gut instincts was betting against them being siblings.

 

Eggsy lowered his curtains and walked away. _Well, either way, let’s hope one don't go killing the other_. Eggsy paused, his interests suddenly slightly piqued at the idea. He shook his head. _No, bad Eggsy. Murderous neighbours are bad._

 

\---

 

A full day hadn’t even passed and Eggsy was already excited to see the mailman delivering a letter to his letterbox. He all but skipped to his letterbox.

 

The mailman gave him a strange look and Eggsy must have been smiling like a loon. He didn’t care.

 

The mailman shrugged and handed him a letter. “Here you go, Mr Hart.”

 

Eggsy blinked. “Wait, I’m not Mr -”

 

The mailman had already left on his bike to continue his delivery route.

 

The envelope was a weighty navy blue cardstock in his hands, sealed with a gold emblem wax seal of a picture of an eyeball. Eggsy tried not to pull a face. _What the actual fuck?_

 

He glanced at the address. It was for next door and addressed to Doctor Harry Hart.

 

_Maybe I do have murderous sociopathic neighbours_.

 

Eggsy walked over to the neighbouring letterbox. _Well, least I was fuckin’ right about Harry being a Doctor._

 

He had placed the letter halfway into the letterbox when the front door flung open.

 

Bald, glasses-wearing, early fifties did not look at all pleased, though he did pause at the sight of him. He closed the door behind him. “Can I help you?”

 

_Scottish_ , Eggsy’s brain observed. He pulled out the envelope and waved it. “Sorry bruv, the mailman gave me this to me by mistake.”

 

The Scotsman took one glance at the distinctive design of the envelope and suddenly seemed even more annoyed. “Keep it.”

 

Eggsy stared. “Uh, what?”

 

The other man shook his head and moved towards his car. “Excuse me, I have to go to work.”

 

"Uh, sure, you have a good one, mate.”

 

And with that, the Scotsman drove away.

 

Eggsy stared back down at the envelope, now curious to know what could possibly be in it.

 

“It’s strange, usually I’m the more dramatic one.”

 

Eggsy nearly dropped the envelope as he looked up and saw Harry, who was nonchalantly leaning against his front doorway.

 

“The mailman gave me your letter,” Eggsy said stupidly.

 

Harry shrugged. “That’s alright, feel free to leave it in the letterbox.”

 

Eggsy immediately pushed it into the letterbox and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Right then.”

 

"Don’t mind Merlin, he’s often mildly angry most days.”

 

Eggsy tilted his head. “His name is Merlin? No wonder he’s mildly fuckin’ angry.”

 

Harry laughed. “Just a nickname I coined for him, long ago. If I want to get him properly angry, I call him ‘darling.’”

 

_Ah, so life partners it is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins the misunderstandings!
> 
> Thanks for commenting, kudos-ing, bookmarking and reading, loves!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up loves, there’s casual mentions of blood and gore and violence in this chapter.

“He seemed pretty mad,” Eggsy said without thinking.  “You should probably make it up to him.”

 

Harry raised his eyebrows and Eggsy immediately backtracked.  “Sorry bruv, I know it's none of my business.  It's just the whole standard ‘don't walk away angry’ shit, since you never know how things are going to go down and all that, because I'm sure it'd suck hard for either of you if something bad happened.”  He paused at Harry’s lack of response.  “You know what, _definitely none of my business_.  I think I might shut up now.”  He took a step back towards his house.  “Yep, definitely gonna shut up now and walk back to my house and maybe re-assess my life and pretend this never happened.”

 

“You raise an excellent point,” Harry said eventually, “About not walking away angry, that is.”

 

Eggsy turned to stare at him.  “Yeah?”

 

“Though you can re-assess your life if you so wish,” he replied.

 

“Sorry bruv, I'm a bit of a rambler.  Some people mistake it for charm - that always makes for fun times.”  He cleared his throat.  “Anyway, I should leave you to it, I’m sure you’re a busy man.”

 

“Very well.  Have a lovely day, Eggsy.”

 

“Same to you, mate.”

 

\---

 

Eggsy was valiantly trying to not to gag.  “That’s fuckin’ rank.”

 

“Quite,” Roxy replied from his computer screen, as she shifted through what was probably skull and brain matter.  He’d seen his fair share of gore, but brains never ceased to gross him out.  “You really ought to smell this, it’s quite rancid.”

 

“I’ll pass, thanks,” Eggsy replied as he tried not to wince at the squelching noises.  “So what am I lookin’ at, Doctor Morton?”

 

“Caucasian male, early thirties, brunette.  Appears to have died from asphyxiation.  Fingerprints and nails were sanded down post mortem.”

 

He leaned towards his screen, trying to get a better look at the victim’s neck.  “Asphyxiated by what?”

 

“Based on the face bloating, I’d say that a plastic bag was placed over his head and then duct tape shut.  I’m still waiting on scans on the sticky glue-like residue left behind on his neck.”

 

Eggsy leaned back into his chair.  “Sounds like a Dean Baker victim to me.”

 

“It would certainly suit the M.O, but -”

 

“But the victim’s eyes were fuckin’ blown out,” Eggsy finished with a sigh.  “Why would they do that?”

 

Roxy shrugged.  “I don’t know, Detective.  But they shot through both of his eyes after he died.”

 

“Any luck on tracing the gun?”

 

She shook her read.  “No, ballistics is still running scans.  I’ll let you know when I hear back.”

 

“A’right, thanks.  Anything else?”

 

She shook her head.  “Not at this point, no.”

 

Someone was knocking at his door.

 

Roxy raised an eyebrow.  “Guests already?”

 

Eggsy flashed her a wink.  “Perks of being so fuckin’ popular, Rox.”

 

She rolled her eyes.  “Who is it?”

 

“Not a fuckin’ clue, call me back in five, yeah?”

 

The video call ended as Eggsy approached his front door.  He quickly looked through the peephole, before opening his front door in surprise.  “Hey Harr - whoa, you smell fuckin’ _great_.”

 

Harry smiled, a small basketed bundle in his arms.  “Good evening, Eggsy.”

 

Eggsy blinked, sticking his head outside his front door disbelievingly.  “It can’t be dark already - oh, so it is.  Would ya look at that.”

 

Harry cleared his throat.  “So I took your advice and I think Merlin may actually forgive me.”

 

Eggsy looked back at him.  “Yeah?  How’d you manage that?”

 

Harry lifted the basket higher.  “Bribery.”

 

“Nice.”

 

“He can’t possibly eat all of these, so I thought you might also enjoy them,” he said, as he lifted the tea towel over the basket.

 

The smell hit Eggsy in full effect.  It smelled like fresh bread and chocolate.   _And butter.  So much delicious butter._  He gaped at them.  “What’s the quickest way I can get these into my person?”

 

“You could try eating them?”  Harry suggested.  “I would also strongly recommend chewing.”

 

Eggsy glanced up at him.  “You sure I can’t IV drip this into my bloodstream?  You know, for science?”

 

Harry shrugged, before pushing the basket into Eggsy’s arms.  “You can always try.”

 

He stared back down at them incredulously.  They looked perfect.  “What even are they?”

 

“Pain au chocolat,” Harry replied.  Eggsy must have looked blank, because Harry re-clarified.  “Chocolate croissants.”  

 

“Oh yeah, I know what those are,” Eggsy replied with a nod.  

 

His computer began to ring and Eggsy snapped to attention. “Sorry mate, I better go answer that.”

 

“Of course.  Good night, Eggsy.”

 

“‘Night, Harry.  And thanks heaps for these!”

 

\---

 

Eggsy ran back to his new makeshift office and accepted the call on his computer.  “‘Ey Rox.”

 

She squinted at him from the screen as she held a stainless steel bowl of what was definitely a human heart.  “What’s that you’re holding?”

 

“Chocolate croissants.”

 

“What!  From where?”

 

Eggsy placed the basket down and picked up one of the delicate little pastries.  “My neighbour brought them over.”

 

“Oh _really_?”  She said with a perfectly poised eyebrow and poorly concealed interest.  

 

“Fuck off Rox, he’s taken.”

 

“By you?”

 

He rolled his eyes.  “He literally lives with his partner.”

 

She immediately lost interest and went back to inspecting the heart.  “Well that’s just boring.”

 

Eggsy shrugged before taking a large bite out of the chocolate croissant.  

 

The pastry and chocolate melted in his mouth and his mind went carefully blank.

 

“Eggsy, can you hear me?  I think your screen froze.”

 

“Oh _shit,_ ” he managed to blurt out as he stared in sheer wonder at the croissant in his hand.  

 

“Nevermind.”

 

“Christ, I wanna book a fuckin’ room with this thing.”

 

Roxy snorted.  “Save me one.”

 

“No fuckin’ way,” he replied sharply, suddenly wrapping his arms protectively around the basket.  

 

“What!  Is this because I drank your coffee?”

 

“Yes, now fuck off and go get ballistics to hurry up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the support and interest in this story, loves! I wasn’t to sure if anyone would be keen on an AU so it’s a pleasant surprise.
> 
> As always, thank you for commenting, kudos-ing, reading and bookmarking.
> 
> I’m enjoy-acne on tumblr if you’d like to ask me questions or if you wanna send me prompts.


	4. Chapter 4

“I know that this is a bribe,” Merlin said, biting into the chocolate croissant.

 

“Is it working?” Harry asked.

 

“It is, but I still think you’re an _absolute idiot_.”

 

“Perfect, so back to normal then,” Harry replied.

 

They fell into an amicable silence, both men quietly enjoying their chocolate bread as they sat at their dining table.

 

“So you’ve made up your mind then?” Merlin asked after glancing at the opened ornate letter on the table.

 

“Of course I have,” Harry replied indifferently.

 

“Don’t die.”

 

 

Harry froze.

 

“You did it before and I didn’t appreciate it in the slightest,” Merlin continued in between bites. “Though lord knows why I prefer you alive.”

 

Harry cleared his throat, picking at his croissant as a distraction. “I’m sure it’s a fine line at the best of times.”

 

\---

 

“Ballistics has confirmed that the gun used was a 9mm standard short barrelled breech-loading semi-automatic.”

 

“So basically the most common fuckin’ gun ever,” Eggsy replied with a sigh.

 

Roxy shook her head from the screen. “The bullets went straight through his skull, but no bullets were found at the scene.”

 

“His body was probably dumped there then.”

 

“Possibly.”

 

“So we’ve got a victim with no wallet, no fingerprints, no fuckin’ _eyes_ and no other fuckin’ way to identify him.”

 

Roxy pulled off her surgical gloves. “Well it sounds hopeless when you put it that way.”

 

“It _is_ hopeless,” Eggsy grumbled.  “When can you get me the case files?”

 

Roxy tossed her gloves into the bin and washed her hands.  “I’ve already arranged for hard copies to be sent to a parcel locker. You should be able to pick it up tomorrow.”

 

\---

 

Harry pulled his car into his driveway after a long day of work. Stepping out of his car, he pulled off his glasses to rub at his eyes tiredly, when he heard the unfamiliar revving of a motorcycle. He frowned as a blurry figure drove past him before parking in his new neighbour’s driveway.

 

The figure hopped off their motorcycle and removed their helmet. “‘Evening Harry!”

 

_So Eggsy has a motorcycle. That’s not at all distracting._ Harry waved back politely with the hand he was using to hold his glasses. “Good evening Eggsy,” he replied, when his glasses slipped out of his hand and flew across his front lawn. Harry blinked. _Oh for fuck’s sake._

 

“You alright there?” He heard Eggsy ask.

 

“Yes, everything’s fine,” he lied as he groped blindly at his car, tracing his hands over it before turning to approach his front lawn. Everything was a mass blur. He squinted, staring at the splash of green grass that was now cleverly concealing his prescription eyewear. He squatted down, patting at the grass helplessly.

 

He heard Eggsy laugh in the distance and had Harry not felt so terribly embarrassed, he would have probably found it delightful.

 

There was a gentle hand on his shoulder and Harry glanced up. He squinted at the person’s face. “I sincerely hope that's you, Eggsy.”

 

"Christ, you’re super fuckin’ blind,” Eggsy replied with a laugh.

 

“Yes, the hilarity of it all will never cease,” he replied dryly, when the younger abruptly took his hand and placed his glasses in his palm. Harry immediately put his glasses back on and his world went back into focus. “Oh. Thank you.”

 

“No worries,” Eggsy replied with a smile. “C’mon, up you get,” he said as he pulled Harry back to his feet with a strength he didn't expect from the shorter man. “Busy day or what, Haz? You look exhausted.”

 

“No, I actually just look terrible up close.”

 

Eggsy snorted and let go of his hand. “A’right.”

 

Harry frowned. “You’re not meant to agree.”

 

Eggsy grinned and shrugged. “I don't.”

 

“Good, I don't think my ego could handle it after my glasses debacle.”

 

“Least I could do for the man who's introduced me to the love of my life.”

 

 

Harry’s heart seemed to slow unexpectedly. “Whenever did I do that?”

 

“The chocolate croissants, Harry,” Eggsy clarified.

 

To Harry’s surprise, he was relieved. “Ah, of course.”

 

“Where’d you buy them? I need to stock up.”

 

“I made them.”

 

The younger man gave him a long look, before narrowing his eyes. “What do you mean you made them?”

 

 

Harry was unsure of what part of his very short answer was unclear. “Well, you just make a fairly basic pastry dough with a pinch of sugar and then you layer cold butter over -”

 

Eggsy raised a hand to interrupt him, “Wait a fuckin’ moment - you bake shit?”

 

Harry was at a loss. “I've yet to meet someone who isn't pleased by that.”

 

“Oh, I'm very fuckin’ pleased by that,” Eggsy replied brightly. “If you ever need a taste tester, you give me a yell, yeah?”

 

“Alright,” Harry said after a brief pause.

 

“A’right!” Eggsy echoed excitedly as he slapped Harry's shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry loves, just a short and somewhat random chapter for now. So glad to read that you're intrigued by whatever's happening in the story so far. Hope the little bit of sap ties you over until I have to face my number 1 enemy: plot.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, bookmarking, commenting and kudos-ing!


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey Eggsy, I have bad news, one of Dean Baker’s men has - what is that heavenly smell?”

 

Eggsy stepped aside to let Roxy in. He locked the door behind her.  “You just missed my neighbour, the one I mentioned before, he bakes like a fuckin’ angel.”

 

“I don't think angels bake,” she said, before stopping short in front of the kitchen.  She stared at the overwhelming pile of baked goods on the kitchen counter, ranging from bread to pastries to macarons.  “How on earth…  This would have taken ages!”

 

“Yeah, I overheard him and his partner arguing a couple days back, he must still be trying to make it up to him,” Eggsy replied with a shrug.  “He said these were all just leftovers.”  He handed her a chocolate croissant.  “Here, you gotta give it a go.”

 

“I’m sure they’re delightful, but surely it can’t be too big of a fuss.”  She took the pastry and took a polite delicate bite out of it.  “Oh dear.”

 

“I know,” Eggsy replied knowingly.

 

She stared at the croissant in her hand.  “This is going to be a problem.”

 

“Yep, guess we’ll have to fight to the death over who gets the last one.”

 

She raised an eyebrow.  “Or you could be a gentleman and let me have it.”

 

“Fuck that.”

 

“We both know that I could end you, _detective_ ,” she replied pointedly.

 

“Maybe, but there's just some shit worth fighting for,” he countered, staring hungrily at the croissant in her hand.

 

Roxy paused.  “Is it sad that we feel this strongly about food?”

 

“Eh, just fuckin’ embrace it, Rox,” he replied as he hopped atop his kitchen counter.  He popped an entire macaron in his mouth.  “Fuckin’ heavenly,” he muttered with a crude eyeroll.  “But anyway, ‘bad news’ you said?”

 

Roxy leaned herself against the kitchen counter.  “One of Dean Baker’s men has confessed to the murders from the two victims from last Monday.”

 

Eggsy frowned.  “As far as bad news can go, that’s probably not the baddest.”

 

“He’s also confessed to another thirteen counts of murder, two of which we’ve convicted Dean Baker for,” she added.

 

“You’re fuckin’ _kidding me._ ”

 

She shook her head.  “I would never joke about that Eggsy, it would be in extremely poor taste.”

 

“Rox, this means he could get outta fuckin’ prison on a _fuckin’ technicality_!”  He exclaimed angrily.

 

“Look, they’ve not released him yet, I’m in contact with one of the best eye specialist’s in the country - “

 

“ _What?_  Why?”

 

“Because of the victim who had his eyes blown out, detective,” she replied calmly.  “His confession was perfect in terms of getting every murderous detail correct about _twelve_ victims, but nothing about the man who had his eyes shot out through the back of his head.”

 

Eggsy leaned back and considered this.  “Helluva detail to leave out.”

 

“If we can prove that he didn’t commit _that_ murder, they’ll have to throw his confession out.”

 

“And Dean Baker stays behind bars,” he added.  “When is the eye specialist coming around?”

 

“He’ll be looking at the body tomorrow afternoon,” she replied.  “I’ve had a lot of trouble getting in contact with him, he’s been terribly busy recently.”

 

\---

 

Merlin gave the kitchen a long look before walking to the dining room to see Harry slumped at the head of the table, his head resting on his forearms.

 

“The first bribe worked, you know,” said Merlin.

 

“I know,” Harry mumbled into the table.

 

Merlin crossed his arms.  “I don’t suppose you’ve quit your job and converted our kitchen to be a full-time bakery then?”

 

Harry was silent for a moment.  “How many doughnuts will it take for you to cease all lines of questioning?”

 

“How many donuts do you have?”

 

“Ten.”

 

“Done.  But you're still cleaning the kitchen.”

 

“Insensitive bastard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, this chapter was short. Oh well, it might actually work out a bit better in terms of pacing.
> 
> As always, thank you for taking the time to read, comment, kudos and bookmark.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry extended his hand out to the young doctor.  “It’s very nice to meet you, Doctor Morton.”  

The young woman shook his hand firmly.  “Likewise, Doctor Hart.”  She released his hand.  “I was worried you were travelling.”

He shook his head.  “I will be later on in the year, but I do apologise for the trouble you went through to contact me.”

“Not to worry,” she replied politely.  “Travelling for business or pleasure, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Business,” he replied.  “I’m hoping to be away for a full year.”

Doctor Morton raised her eyebrows.  “You must enjoy it then.”

“Always have.”

She nodded, seemingly understanding, before pulling a tablet on a wheel-able tripod towards them.

Harry blinked, staring at the strange contraption before glancing down at the covered dead body in front of him.  “Do you typically video record your autopsies?”

“Not typically, no.  I may have a strange request for you though.”

Harry frowned as he put on his surgical gloves.  “Stranger than inspecting a murder victim with his eyes removed?”

She laughed.  “Not quite.  Our lead detective is unable to attend, so I’ve been video-conferencing the autopsies.”  She adjusted the tripod for the tablet to sit higher.  “Would that be alright with you?”

“Of course, perfectly alright.”

“Excellent,” she replied as she turned the tablet on.  She tapped at the screen momentarily, before it started to ring.

The other line picked up almost immediately.

“’Morning, Doctor Morton,” a familiar voice said cheerfully.  “Long time, no see.”

“Good morning, detective,” she replied with an eye-roll.  “I currently have Doctor Hart here in the room with me.”  She moved aside, so Harry could see the screen.  “Doctor Hart, this is Detective Unwin.”

 

Harry glanced up at the screen briefly and then back down at the body, before doing a double-take.  He blinked.   _Is this actually happening right now?_

 

Detective Unwin positively beamed and waved excitedly.  “’Ey Harry!”

 

Doctor Morton gave him a strange look.  “ _‘Harry’_?”

“Hello Eggsy,” Harry replied after a pause.  

 

Doctor Morton glanced back and forth between Harry and the tablet.  “I’m sorry, but how do you two know each other?”

 

They spoke over each other.

 

“He’s _the baker_!”

 

“I’m his neighbo-.”  Harry stopped.  “What did you call me?”

 

“You’re _the baker_ ,” Doctor Morton abruptly said, somewhat accusingly.

 

Harry took a small, confused step back.  “In my spare time maybe.”  He raised his hands defensively.  “I’m an eye surgeon by day, I promise.”

 

Eggsy laughed through the screen.  “Christ Rox, knock it off, we’re probably scaring him.”

 

“I’m not scared,” Harry retorted in a very small voice.

 

Doctor Morton cleared her throat.  “I apologise.  It’s just - those chocolate croissants are to die for, Doctor Hart.”

 

“Thank you Doctor Morton,” he replied evenly, “But while we're on the topic of dying...”  Harry gestured subtly to the dead body in front of him, in an attempt to get what was amounting to being a very strange morning back on track.  

 

“Of course, I apologise,” she replied with faint embarrassment.  She lifted the cover off the victim’s face.

 

The victim’s face was as disfigured as Harry had expected.  What he didn't expect was a feeling of familiarity.

 

“You ‘right there?”  Eggsy asked from the tablet.

 

Harry mentally shook himself and leaned closer towards the victim, inspecting the two gaping cavities where his eyes once were.  “Yes, I’m alright.”

 

Eggsy sounded dubious at best.  “You sure?”

 

He sidestepped the question.  “So you're having trouble identifying the man?”

 

“That's right,” Doctor Morton replied, examining the body opposite him.  

 

Harry inspected the victim’s arm, looking for a unique looking - “Your victim has a birthmark on the inside of his left forearm,” he said, mostly to himself.

 

“‘S’not really enough to go on, Doc, not to mention you're meant to be an _eye doctor-_ ”

 

Harry pulled off his surgical gloves.  “Your victim’s name is Bill Reade, twenty-four.”

 

Both Doctor Morton and Eggsy went quiet.

 

“You know him,” Eggsy said eventually.

 

“Yes, he’s one of my patients.  He is being treated for glaucoma in his left eye.”  Harry cleared his throat.  “At least he was.  I can arrange for his file to be sent here, if you like.”

 

Doctor Morton gave a nod and placed the sheet back over Bill.  “That would be immensely helpful.”

 

He disposed of his surgical gloves.  “If there's nothing else, I best take my leave.”  

 

“Of course, thank you for your time, Doctor Hart.”

 

\---

 

“Harry seem a’right to you?”  Eggsy asked from the tablet screen.

 

“He didn't vomit, so I'd say he did remarkably well.”  Roxy glanced over a file clipped into her clipboard.  “So _Harry_ , is it?”

 

“Fuck off Rox, I told you -”

 

“Yes, yes,” she interrupted.  “He’s got a partner.  Shame, that.”

 

\---

 

“Hey Merlin, is Harry home?”

 

The Scotsman blinked down at the younger man at his door.  “I'm sorry, what did you call me?”

 

The younger man shrugged.  “It's either that or I call you ‘darling’.”

 

“So you've met Harry,” he replied with a groan.  “I'd rather ‘Merlin’, if you insist on nicknames.”

 

“Merlin it is. ‘M’name’s Eggsy.”

 

“Yes, we've met.  I apologise for how we met, Harry’s as stubborn as a bull.”  He rubbed at his head.  “Believe it or not, I had hair before we met.”

 

Eggsy chuckled.  “Anyway, I just wanted to give this back.”  He handed back a small wicker basket.

 

Merlin took the basket, somewhat surprised.  “I was wondering where this went.”

 

“Also, uh,” Eggsy hesitated momentarily, “Harry seemed a bit off this morning.  Maybe check on him?”

 

Merlin raised his eyebrows.  “Of course.”

 

“Cool, cool.  Tell him I said ‘hi’ too?”

 

Merlin nodded.  “I will.”

 

“Cool, thanks mate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading, commenting, kudos-ing and bookmarking loves.
> 
> Oh and also, before I totally forget, thanks for being okay with my previous chapter being short! You are all very sweet people.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry was unable to shake the image of Bill Reade and his missing eyes out of his head.  It reminded him an awful lot of -

 

“Nice car, mate.”

 

Harry looked at the unfamiliar man standing by his car and abruptly stopped walking.  The man looked like a personified bull-dog, all broad body and little height - he looked like he meant to be threatening, though he admittedly didn’t find him particularly frightening.  Harry mentally named him ‘poodle’ before replying a very polite, “Thank you.”

 

‘Poodle’ scoffed and walked away.

 

Harry shrugged and stepped into his car.  He drove home.

 

\---

 

“‘Evening Doctor Hart,” Eggsy called out as he sat on the two steps leading to his front door, just as Harry stepped out of his car.

 

Harry glanced up, phone in one hand and suit jacket draped over his forearm.  His crisp white shirt was rolled up to his elbows and he had undone the top three buttons of his shirt, most likely so he could loosen his tie.  He almost looked alarmed to have been caught in such a state of ‘undress.’  “Good evening, Eggsy.  Or do you prefer-”

 

“Eggsy’s just fine,” he interrupted.  “Tryin’ to keep my work quiet.”

 

Harry nodded.  “Of course.”

 

“You a’right, Haz?”

 

Harry slipped his phone into his pocket.  “A bit tired, is all.”

 

Eggsy shifted over to the side and pat at the now empty space next to him.  “Sit with me.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because your patient died in a real fucked up way.”

 

Harry gave him a long look, before he made his way over and sat himself down next to Eggsy.  He sighed.  “I’ve been a surgeon for over twenty years.  I’ve long accepted that some patients die, Eggsy.”

 

“I’ve been a homicide detective for a little less than two years,” Eggsy replied quietly.  “And I’ve long accepted that murder is just fuckin’ unacceptable.”  He nudged Harry with his shoulder.  “I’m gonna find the fucker who did this, Haz.”

 

Harry was silent for the moment, merely looking out at the road ahead of them.  “I’m sure you will.”

 

“Oh wow, that was easy.”

 

Harry turned to look over at the younger man, confused.  “Excuse me?”

 

Eggsy leaned his back against his front door.  “Thought I was gonna have to do my entire re-assuring spiel about justice.  You actually left the coroner’s office before I could even do it.  Hear it rates ten out of ten with all my clients.”

 

That startled a laugh out of Harry.  “I see.  I imagine I wouldn’t have received the full effect of it via a video conference then.”

 

“You’re right, I’m much more fuckin’ delightful in person.”

 

“You are,” he replied without thinking.

 

Eggsy flashed him a wink.  “Damn fuckin’ straight I am.”

 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh again, before it faded into a gentle smile.  “Eggsy, would you consider-”

 

Eggsy suddenly sat up and waved his hands to quickly shush him.  “Wait, d’you hear that?”

 

Harry paused and tried to concentrate.  

 

He could hear a very faint beeping sound.

 

And then his car exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger, whee! People love those, right? No? Oops, lol. 
> 
> As always, thanks for commenting, kudos-ing, bookmarking and reading, loves!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to jordankaine for helping me with my writer's block. Thanks hon!

Eggsy woke up in the back of an open ambulance.  His ears were ringing and everything smelt of smoke.  He reached up to his face slowly, touching the plastic oxygen mask digging into his cheeks before sitting up carefully.  He was sore all over.   _Fuck, not this shit again._

 

A paramedic rushed over.  Eggsy stared carefully at the way their lips moved, though the sound of their voice didn’t quite register as well as it should have in his ears.

 

Eggsy shook his head and pointed at one of his ears.  “You’re gonna have to speak up mate, think that explosion fucked me over a tad.”

 

The paramedic nodded and picked up a nearby clipboard instead.  They quickly scribbled something down and flipped the clipboard around for him to read. “Name, DOB, address,” it read.

 

Eggsy flashed them a wink, which probably looked ridiculous with an oxygen mask on.  "I'm old enough to date, if that's what you're trying to work out."

 

The paramedic rolled their eyes and tapped at the sign again.   

 

“Gary Unwin, 6th of September, 1991.  Can't remember my new address, only been there a week.”

 

The paramedic gave a nod and made a move to remove the oxygen mask.

 

“Thanks mate, those things fuckin’ suck,” he said as he absentmindedly rubbed at the embedded marks left behind.  

 

The paramedic quickly shone a light in both of his eyes before giving an approving nod.   _No concussion at least_ , Eggsy thought before the paramedic handed him a familiar pair of glasses.

 

Eggsy frowned, inspecting the dark thick frames in his hand when he came to an abrupt realisation.  “Fuck!”  He near-stumbled out of the ambulance, apologising quickly when he nearly bowled over the paramedic who had just helped him.  “Shit, shit, shit, where the fuck is he?”

 

He shoved past a group of police officers, when he spotted another ambulance with it’s back doors open.   _Don't be dead, don't be dead, don't be dead_ , _don’t be dead,_ he repeated as he jogged his way towards the van.

 

To Eggsy’s immense relief, Harry was alive and very calmly sitting upright on a stretcher.  Another paramedic was neatly stitching a deep-looking cut on his arm shut but other than that, Harry looked mostly -

 

Eggsy paused and stared at the older man’s bare chest.  It was covered in a cacophony of new bruises.  He imagined his own chest probably looked no better but it was the unexpected litany of fresh scarring that gave Eggsy pause.  

 

Eggsy had sat through enough of Roxy’s autopsies to have learnt a thing or two.  He was willing to bet that Harry had gotten pretty badly hurt not too long ago, _maybe two or three months ago,_ judging by what looked like _two mostly healed stab wounds and a fucking scar from a gunshot wound._ He frowned.   _What the actual fuck?_

 

The paramedic finished stitching Harry’s arm and filled out a medical chart, before moving on to check if anyone else required help.

 

Harry hopped off the stretcher and pat around it quickly until he found the remains of his formerly pristine white business shirt.  He pulled it on quickly, with no regard to his new stitches or bruised chest, buttoning the shirt closed with far more speed than Eggsy would have expected from an injured man.  

 

It was only when Harry had missed a few buttons, leaving his shirt closed but bizarrely un-aligned that Eggsy remembered the other reason of why he had gone looking for Harry in the first place.  He gently tapped Harry on the arm.  “Harry?”

 

Harry gave Eggsy a very long but confused look, clearly unable to recognise him.  “My stitches are fine, you’ve done a lovely job,” he said politely.

 

Eggsy laughed.  “It’s me Haz, trust me when I say that you _do not_ want me fixing up your stitches,” he said as he pressed the glasses into Harry’s hands.  

 

“Eggsy?”  Harry eagerly put his glasses on.  “Thank you for finding them.”  The older man looked him up and down carefully.  “Are you alright?”

 

“‘M’fine, my hearing’s utter shit though.”

 

Harry nodded empathetically.  “Shrill ringing?”

 

“Like a fuckin’ banshee.”

 

“Excuse me, Harry Hart, was it?”  Harry turned to look at the approaching police officer.  “Are you alright to answer some questions?”

 

“Of course.”

 

The police officer glanced at Eggsy apologetically.  “We’ll have to question you separately, detective.”

 

“Not to worry mate, I know the rules,” Eggsy replied and took his queue to leave.  He walked over to a quiet corner and pulled out his phone from his pocket.  He speed-dialled a number.

 

“Detective Unwin?”

 

“Rox, someone’s put a hit out on Harry.”

 

“Shit _,_ he’s _dead_?”

 

“A tiny bit injured, but otherwise fine,” Eggsy clarified.  “It was another car bomb.  Can you send me the security camera footage of the carpark?  Someone must’ve followed him when he left the precinct.”

 

He could hear shuffling on her side of the line.  “I’ll bring them over myself, I’ll be there in an hour.”

 

“You’re aces Rox.”

 

“I’ll see you soon-”

 

“Wait, before you leave the precinct, I need a favour.”

 

There was a brief pause.  “Eggsy, we’ve gone over this, I can’t bring dead bodies over to your house-”

 

“No, no, not that,” he interrupted, “I need you to look for some medical files.”

 

Judging by the long pause, he could tell Roxy was confused.  “Who's?”  She asked.

 

“Doctor Harry Hart’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for commenting, reading, bookmarking, kudos-ing and not being upset with a cliffhanger. 
> 
> Also, apologies for the delay! Thanks for being patient, you lovely people!


	9. Chapter 9

Eggsy stood just inside the bright yellow caution tape and crossed his arms, trying hard to think back to what he saw, for any details he might have already forgotten.   _Gunshot wound in the left shoulder, one large slash wound in the upper right abdomen and a stab wound in the lower right abdomen.  Looked like clean cuts from a large, sharp weapon._  Eggsy pursed his lips.   _What trouble have you gotten yourself in, Harry?  Are you and Merlin having some real fucked up domestics or what?_

 

“Christ, where is he?”

 

Eggsy snapped to attention as he watched Merlin duck under the caution tape.  A police officer pushed the Scot back.

 

“Excuse me sir, I must request that you stay behind the tape.”

 

Merlin looked about ready to shove the police officer aside when Eggsy quickly stepped in and flashed his detective badge at the other officer.

 

“His partner was caught in the blast, mate,” said Eggsy.  “Let ‘im be, yeah?”

 

The officer stepped aside and Merlin gave Eggsy a strange look.

 

Eggsy shrugged and lowered his badge.  “What?  You think I can't be a detective?”

 

Merlin raised his eyebrows.  “No, it's not that-”

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Eggsy interrupted with a flippant wave. “It’s fine, I'm used to the detective game being real fuckin’ ageist.  S’fine.”

 

Merlin frowned.  “I suggest you get that chip off your shoulder, because that’s not what I was-”

 

Eggsy cut the scotsman short again, as he watched a familiar brunette make their way over. “Here comes Harry,” he announced.

 

Merlin apparently forgot whatever it was he was about to say, as the moment Harry was close enough to hear him he immediately asked, very loudly, “What in _hell_ happened?”

 

“Good evening to you as well, Merlin,” Harry replied nonchalantly.

 

Merlin glared at the older man though it appears to have no real effect on Harry in the slightest.  “ _What in hell happened?_ ”  He asked again.

 

“My car appears to have exploded.”

 

The Scot blinked.  “ _What_?  Did you forget to get it serviced again?”

 

Harry paused in apparent thought.  “You know, that is highly possible.”

 

Merlin looked like he would have ripped his hair out if he had any.  He looked at Harry expectantly.  “Well?”

 

“‘Well’ what?”

 

Eggsy genuinely couldn't tell if Merlin was angry or worried.  “Are you _alright?_ ”

 

“Of course I am.”

 

“Actually he has eight stitches in his left arm,” Eggsy butted in.

 

Harry gave him a quick look of shocked betrayal, before it faded into something more defensive and placating in the face of what Eggsy was now sure was an angry Merlin.

 

He watched a vein in Merlin’s forehead pop out and couldn't help but wince slightly.  ‘Sorry’, he mouthed to Harry with a shrug as Harry looked pleadingly back at him to not leave.

 

“You’ve barely even recovered from-”

 

“We’ve gone over this, I’m _fine_ ,” Harry snapped.

 

 _Interesting,_ Eggsy thought. _What is it that you don't want me to know?_

 

Merlin seemed to back off then, instead shaking his head and reaching for his phone.  “Let's just see if your car insurance policy covers explosions then.”

 

“Mine does,” Eggsy added after a pause.

 

Merlin looked back at him surprised, as if remembering he was there again.

 

Eggsy blinked.  “Is that weird?”

 

\---

 

Eggsy moved aside to allow Roxy in.

 

She shoved a heavy box and her handbag into his arms.  “You do realise that I'm not supposed to go through civilian medical records, right?”

 

Eggsy locked his door and carried the box inside, the handbag precariously balanced on top.  “Is that your way of saying that you weren't able to find anything?”

 

He heard Roxy flick the kettle on.  “Not a thing,” she replied from the kitchen.  “Why was I looking anyway?  Doctor Hart’s a highly regarded surgeon in his field, you know.”

 

“‘Doctor Hart’ is recovering from two stab wounds and a gunshot.”  He placed the box down onto his coffee table, quickly flipping through one of the files.

 

Roxy poked her head out of the kitchen.  “I thought his car just exploded?”

 

“It did.”

 

They stared at each other briefly, before she ducked back into the kitchen.  “Well I can definitely confirm that he has no records of him going to hospital for anything like that.”

 

Eggsy sat down and perused the file with Bill Reade’s medical records.  “Bit strange, innit?”

 

“Quite.  Coffee?”

 

“Yeah, thanks.  Is the security footage somewhere in this box as well?”

 

“Check my handbag.”

 

“Ah yep, here it is.”

 

Roxy re-entered the living room and handed Eggsy a steaming cup of coffee.  “So are you alright?”

 

“Thanks mate,” he replied before taking a scalding gulp of caffeine.  “Bit bruised from the knock out, s’about it though.  Don't need stitches or nothin.”

 

She sat down adjacent to him.  “Are you going to relocate houses?”

 

“Nah,” he replied dismissively, “They targeted Harry, the fact that he's my neighbour was just a coincidence.”

 

Roxy sipped her coffee.  “Heard back from bomb squad?”

 

“Yeah, same type of bomb that was put on my car,” said Eggsy.  “They're still trying to lift prints, but I doubt they'll find anything.”  He dropped Bill Reade’s medical file onto the coffee table.  “What can you tell me that's not already in there?”

 

“Bill Reade doesn't match the other victims in the slightest,” Roxy replied as she warmed her hands against the coffee cup.

 

“Think he was in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

 

“Possibly,” she said with a one-shouldered shrug.

 

Eggsy leaned into his armchair.  “I'm thinkin’ he saw something he shouldn'tve.”

 

Roxy tilted her head.  “His eyes were shot out _after_ he was suffocated.  Last I heard, dead men don't retain what they see after death.”

 

“Yeah, but his eyes are how we ended up identifying him,” he pointed out.

 

Roxy seemed to be on the same page now.  “Oh, I see.”  She cringed.  “Pardon the pun.”

 

Eggsy snorted as he pulled out another file.  “The officer who took Harry’s statement noted that he had a strange encounter with a Caucasian male after he left work.  The man made comments about Harry’s car.”

 

“Doctor Hart works at the Eye as Ear hospital not far from here.  I should be able to get an order of their security footage.”

 

“I'm also considering the possibility that Bill Reade was murdered somewhere near that hospital.”

 

Roxy pulled out her phone.  “I’ll get forensics to scope the place out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the delay loves!
> 
> Good news is that I'm 80% fine. Bad news is that I totally fell down some stairs about a week ago. I haven't been able to really use my laptop the past couple of days, but I do write semi-frequently on my phone. I've got sappy drabbles and stuff on my tumblr (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/enjoy-acne) if you're into that.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for your patience and thanks for commenting, bookmarking, reading and kudos-ing.


	10. Chapter 10

Eggsy wakes to the sound of a cell phone vibrating loudly against his coffee table.  He sits up slowly with a groan, massaging the the dull pain he has developed in the back of his neck.  He picks up the phone and glances at the caller ID before tossing it over to Roxy’s sleeping form.

 

She wakes up startled, but almost automatically answers the phone.  She somehow sounds perfectly composed despite obviously sporting the couch pattern’s imprint on her face.  “Good morning, this is Doctor Morton speaking.”

 

Eggsy sits up, picking up last night’s coffee mugs and depositing them in the kitchen sink.  He flicks the kettle on to make another batch of coffee, rubbing at his face idly as he listens to Roxy speak over the phone.  He doesn’t overhear anything interesting.  He sighs.

 

“Nothing interesting from bomb squad, I’m afraid,” Roxy says from the living room after hanging up.

 

“Figures,” Eggsy replied as he prepared the coffee.  “Nothing from forensics?”

 

Roxy yawned.  “It’s only 8:30, so they’ve probably only just arrived on the scene.  Had to wait for daylight and all that.”

 

Eggsy tossed a few of the Harry’s leftover pastries into the toaster oven.  “Pfft, daylight-schmaylight.  I’d have checked it out if I wasn’t still stuck here.”

 

“Eggsy, we’ve gone over this, the Dean Baker case still isn’t-”

 

The toaster oven dinged just as Eggsy interrupted her.  “Yeah, I know, it’s not closed yet.”  He tossed the pastries onto a plate and made his way back into the living room.  He handed her a fresh mug of coffee first.  “Drink this, you look like you fuckin’ need it.”

 

She murmured a ‘thank you’ and took a sip.  “That’s rich coming from someone who was caught up in an explosion less than, what,” she glanced at her watch, “Eleven hours ago?”

 

Eggsy snorted as he placed the plate down and sat back down on the couch.  “Exactly, so what’s your excuse?”

 

Roxy hurled a throw pillow into his chest with a surprising amount of force.  “Fuck you, Detective.”

 

“Just keeping your life interesting, Doctor,” he replied as he put the pillow aside.  He reached for a pastry and took a comically large bite.  He had to have eaten at least ten of these by now, but he was always surprised at the way they would melt in his mouth.  “Christ, you know, shit like this shouldn’t be legal.”

 

Roxy hummed in agreement as she took a far more delicate bite out of the other pastry.  “Surely it can be weaponised.”

 

“Surely.”

 

They both ate in a comfortable silence as they slowly began to wake up properly.  

 

“Do you think they’ll place another hit on Doctor Hart?”  Roxy asked after a time.

 

Eggsy fidgeted with his coffee mug.  “Honestly, I’m not sure.  If they wanted to kill him, they shoulda done it before he was able to identify Bill Reade.”

 

Roxy tilted her head.  “Then why bomb the car at all?”

 

“My best guess is probably some kinda scare tactic to keep him from talking to us,” Eggsy replied.  “Though that backfired spectacularly, pretty sure I saw Harry with the sketch artist last night.  He’d probably be able to identify the guy in a line up if we found him.”

 

“Do you think he’s involved somehow?”

 

Eggsy frowned.  “Who is?”

 

Roxy raised an eyebrow.  “Doctor Hart,” she answered.

 

The detective blinked.

 

 _How did that never occur to me?_  He thought, confused.

 

Roxy tilted her head back and finished off her coffee.  “Might be a good chance to find out exactly why he’s got some unexplained and unreported injuries.”

 

Eggsy had to mentally shake himself out of his thoughts.  “Right.”

 

“So what are you thinking?”

 

Eggsy didn’t miss a beat.  “That we should absolutely stage a heist at the Eye and Ear hospital and steal all travel records for the last two financial years and follow the money trail,” he replied in one breath.

 

“What?”  Roxy lowered the coffee mug to the table.  “No!”

 

“What other way is there?  It’s not like I can get hold of Harry’s personal financials.”  He paused in apparent thought.  “Or can I?”

 

“ _No Eggsy.”_

 

“Then what?”

 

“Ask him, _like a normal person_ and not as a detective.”

 

Eggsy gave her a long look.  “How?”

 

“Oh, I don't know,” she replied slightly mockingly, “It's not like he just lives next door - _oh wait._ ”

 

Eggsy was admittedly a tiny bit disappointed.  “But… hospital heist…” he tried again.

 

“ _No Eggsy._ ”

 

He couldn’t help but grumble as he sank into the sofa.  “Fine, so I’m just gonna march over and say what exactly?”

 

\---

 

“Afternoon Haz!  So the scars?  What do.”

 

Harry had barely stepped out of his rental car when the younger man had approached him.  “Excuse me?”

 

“I saw ‘em before and I gotta know,” he replied brightly.

 

Harry shut the car door, trying hard to not appear as confused as he felt.  “When could you have possibly seen that?”

 

“When I gave back your glasses.  You know, after the whole car explosion thing and you had to get stitches,” Eggsy replied with a flippant wave.  “By the way, you doin’ alright after that?  Probably should’ve led with that, come to think of it.”

 

“I’m alright,” Harry replied slowly.

 

“Cool.  So back to the scars-”

 

“Is this important to your investigation?”  Harry interrupted.

 

Eggsy shrugged.  “You tell me.”

 

“It’s not,” Harry replied quickly.  He gestured vaguely to his torso, to the scars that lay underneath.  “All this, it’s entirely exclusive from last night’s events, I assure you.”

 

Eggsy was inclined to blindly believe him, which was alarming in itself.  He pushed the feeling away.  “Look Harry, I’ve seen people get real fucked up in my line of work,” he started.  “And I just wanna help you out if I can.”

 

Harry sighed tiredly.  “I’m _fine_.”

 

Eggsy gave his stitches a pointed look.

 

“I’m _mostly_ fine?” Harry tried.

 

Eggsy rolled his eyes.  “Look Haz, if there’s anyone out there who’s been giving you trouble-”  

 

“Apart from the man who blew up my car,” he replied with an odd sincerity, “I promise you that there is no one I know of in London that is out to get me.”

 

Eggsy stared back at Harry for a moment, trying to find any facial marker he could pick out as a ‘tell’ - anything he could jump on to show that Harry was lying or afraid of whatever situation he was in.  

 

But to Eggsy’s absolute horror, all he noticed was that Harry Hart had dimples and the only conclusion he had drawn from it was that it was _fucking adorable._  He blinked.   _Shit._  

 

“Eggsy?”

  
Eggsy cleared his throat.  “Alright, I’ll let it slide.  For now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, you guys. It feels sooo good to be able to write on a laptop. Thanks for all the well wishes in the last chapter too, I'm doing heaps better, you lovely humans you.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, commenting, bookmarking and kudos-ing loves!


	11. Chapter 11

Harry looked surprised.  “Thank you Eggsy.”

 

Eggsy shrugged uncomfortably.  “Yeah well, guess it’s not really any of my business if it’s not to do with the case.”

 

Harry gave him a set smile that revealed very little.  “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

 

He shook his head.  “No, not unless you want to add to the statement you gave to the officer last night.”

 

“You’ll be the first to know if I think of anything.”

 

\---

 

Eggsy practically slammed his front door shut before leaning against it.  

 

Roxy raised an eyebrow at him from her seat from the living room.  “I’m guessing it went well?”

 

“Oh yeah, fuckin’ great.”

 

Roxy didn't believe him in the slightest, but she let it go and picked through one of the many case files still on the coffee table.  “Well?”

 

Eggsy didn't know what to say.  “Uh, so he has dimples,” he tried.

 

She lifted her eyes from the case file.  “And this helps us how?”

 

“It doesn’t,” Eggsy replied with a grimace.

 

Roxy nearly dropped the report.  “Eggsy, did you _choke_?”

 

“No,” he said unconvincingly.

 

She threw the report down with a satisfying _thwack_ and stared at her friend expectantly.

 

He slumped.  “Yes,” he amended despairingly.

 

“Oh my god,” she said with wide eyes, “Since when do you _ever_ choke during questioning?”

 

Eggsy considered turning around and hitting his head against his front door repeatedly.  “I don’t know, it’s never happened before.”

 

Roxy stood up and walked towards him.  “Are you sick?  Maybe the paramedic missed something.  Lean down.”

 

Eggsy didn’t move.  “Isn’t your usual clientele a little on the dead side?”

 

“I still passed medical school with flying colours, detective.”

 

Eggsy obliged and leaned over, silently hoping for some kind of physical defect that could excuse his sorry mental state.

 

Roxy took his head in her hands and she inspected both of his eyes carefully.  “You sure you don’t have a concussion?  Any slurred speech you can recall of?”

 

There were two sharp knocks on his door and Eggsy opened it blindly without thinking.  

 

“Actually Eggsy, would you -”  Harry abruptly stopped and both Eggsy and Roxy turned to look at him, Eggsy’s head awkwardly still in Roxy’s hands.  Harry seemed to take a small strategic step back.  “I apologise, I hadn’t realised you had company.  Good afternoon, Doctor Morton.”

 

Roxy lowered her hands back to her sides.  “Good afternoon, Doctor Hart.”

 

“Are you well?”  Harry asked politely.

 

“I am,” she replied.  “Ghastly business last night, how are you doing?”

 

“As well as one would expect, Doctor Morton,” Harry replied.

 

Eggsy waited for the doctors to cease exchanging pleasantries (which took slightly longer than he would have liked) before asking, “What was that you were about to say, Haz?”

 

Harry took another step back with a shake of his head.  “I was just going to ask if your hearing had completely returned.”

 

Eggsy frowned.  “It has, why?”

 

“I’m not sure mine has, is all,” he replied, moving further and further away.  “I think I may go consult one of my work colleagues on the matter.”  

 

“Oh hey, that’s no good,” Eggsy said worriedly.  “You right to drive?  I could give you a lift?”

 

“No, no, you two are quite, um,” Harry clumsily backed into Eggsy’s letterbox, nearly tripping over his own feet.

 

Eggsy cringed.  “Are you alri-”

 

“Yes, I’m fine,” Harry replied quickly as he found his footing.  “Have a lovely afternoon, you two.”  The older man all but leaped into his rental vehicle.

 

Eggsy and Roxy watched the car back out of the driveway up until they could barely see it in the far distance.  

 

“That was admittedly very suspicious behaviour,” Eggsy said after some time.

 

“You sure he’s not a suspect?” she asked.  “It’d be a good cover - nearly blowing yourself up and all.”

 

“He’s not a suspect,” Eggsy said before he could think.

 

He could see Roxy and her raised eyebrow looking his way from the corner of his eye.  “What would you base that on?  His _dimples_?”

 

Eggsy shut his door with a sigh.  “Fuck off Rox.  Let’s just put a film on and go through the information we have.”

 

\---

 

Roxy and Eggsy are unable to draw any new conclusions after going through the evidence multiple times, though they do manage to watch three romantic comedies.  They reach the end of the third movie and Eggsy is trying to distract himself from the tears of joy that have decided to attack his eyes while Roxy simultaneously fans her own eyes with a case file.

 

Eggsy rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve.  “Shit, this movie’s surprisingly sad.”

 

Roxy say’s nothing in return, but she sniffs quietly so Eggsy safely assumes that she agrees with him.  

 

They’re both snapped out of the film’s ending when the forensics department calls.

 

Roxy picks up her phone, her professional persona kicking in immediately.  “Good evening, this is Doctor Morton speaking.”

 

Eggsy pauses the movie and waits for the phone call to end.  

 

It lasts for several minutes until Roxy hangs up the phone, her expression excited.  “They found Bill Reade’s murder scene!”

 

“Fuckin’ aces, Rox!”  He replies back happily as they instinctively high-5 each other.

 

\---

 

A police officer stood in Harry's way.  “I’m sorry sir, but this section of the hospital has been cordoned off.”

  
Harry was confused.  “But that’s my office.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously had some bad writer's block here, loves. I'm hoping it doesn't read like I did, but if it does, at least you know. Anyway, here's hoping it goes away!
> 
> As always, thank you so much for commenting, kudos-ing, reading and bookmarking.


	12. Chapter 12

Merlin didn’t glance up from the scrapped heap of metal he was trying to repair.  “Didn’t you only just leave?”

 

“No, that was an entire hour ago,” Harry replied from the doorway.

 

“What are you doing back?”  

 

“My rental car exploded.”  

 

Merlin paused in his movement.  “Did that actually happen or do you just want attention?”

 

“The latter,” Harry replied.

 

Merlin went back to work.  “You’re a twat.  Have a seat.”

 

Harry sat down.  He reached over to touch what looked like scrapped medical equipment.

 

“Don't touch that!”  Merlin snapped.

 

Harry immediately put both his hands on it.  “Don't touch what?”

 

“The highly sensitive medical equipment that lousy tossers like your sort will need in the operating room!”

 

Harry didn't move.  “My sort?”

 

“Yes, your sort.”

 

“Do you mean doctors?”

 

“I meant tossers.”

 

Harry snorted and removed his hands.    “What are you trying to do?”

 

“Just upgrading the voltage,” Merlin replied.  “It’ll need to power on a 110 volts instead of 240.”

 

Harry couldn’t help but feel surprised.  “Is this your bizarre way of giving your blessing?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“I’m touched, truly.”

 

“ _Shut up_.”

 

Harry made himself comfortable in his seat.  “We both know you’ll miss this.”

 

Merlin sighed, resigned but not disagreeing.  He went back to fiddling with the medical equipment.  “Don’t you have paperwork you could be filling out?”

 

Harry shrugged.  “My office has been cordoned off.”

 

“Christ, what did you do now?  And here, hold this and don't touch anything,” said Merlin as he handed Harry a screwdriver.

 

Harry absentmindedly poked at the machine with the screwdriver’s handle.  “I’m not sure, but apparently it involves bright yellow tape with the word ‘caution’ in repeated succession.”

 

“Funny how that sort of thing seems to follow you about.”

 

“It’s a gift.”

 

“Excuse me, Doctor Harry Hart?”

 

Harry turned his chair around, screwdriver still in hand.  A police officer stood at the doorway.  “Can I help you, officer?”

 

\---

 

Roxy leaned against the kitchen doorway, her phone in hand.  “Doctor Hart’s been taken to the precinct for questioning.”

 

Eggsy was elbow deep in dishwater.  “Did he remember something new?”

 

“Actually, the investigator’s looking for probable cause.”

 

Eggsy glanced up at that.  “For a warrant?”

 

“For an arrest.”

 

Eggsy dropped the dish he was holding, splashing water everywhere.  “What.”

 

“I don’t think they’ve got anything on him though, apparently he’s not even been in the UK for very long.”

 

“Then how is he a suspect?”

 

“His return to the UK coincides with numerous Dean Baker murders.”

 

Eggsy scoffed.  “That's not enough to go on.  What happened to trying to find the guy who blew up his fucking car?”

 

“It's been put on the back burner now that Doctor Hart’s moved up the suspect list.”

 

Eggsy shook his head.  “Jesus Christ, who the fuck’s leading this investigation?”

 

Roxy winced.  “Charlie.”

 

Eggsy nearly broke a dish in half.  “You're fucking kidding.”

 

“I'm not.”

 

“Rox, Charlie couldn't investigate his way out of a fuckin’ _paper bag_!”

 

“That's _probably_ not true-”

 

“You know what I mean!”

 

“Yes, yes I do actually,” she amended quickly.

 

Eggsy took in a deep breath.  “And even if Harry is a suspect, Charlie can't interrogate for shit.  It’ll be leading questions all the fuckin’ way - the sorta shit that won’t hold up in court.”

 

“I know, Eggsy,” Roxy replied gently.

 

“The sorta shit that gets people like Dean Baker out on fucking _technicalities_!”

 

“I _know,_ Eggsy,” she repeated.

 

They stared at each other momentarily as Eggsy’s anger began to fade away.  He looked away.  “I fuckin’ hate consulting.  Can’t do fucking shit.”

 

Roxy sighed.  “Maybe there’s something we’ve missed?”

 

He went back to scrubbing his dishes, using a little more force than what was probably necessary.  “You said Harry hasn’t been in the UK long.”

 

“That’s right, he travels frequently for work.”

 

“Say Charlie is, god forbid,” Eggsy cringed, almost unable to say it, “Right.  Say Charlie is _right_ about Harry, we ought to check Harry’s travel records.”

 

“I already told you, we are _not_ staging a hospital heist for some travel records!”

 

\---

 

It took over a week, but Roxy managed to acquire Harry’s hospital travel records _without_ the need of a hospital heist.  Eggsy was notably disappointed.

 

“The heist would’ve been quicker,” he says to her.

 

“Illegal too,” she replies.

 

“You mean ‘cool-as-fuck?’”

 

“Just start reading the damn files.”

 

He placed the box down onto his coffee table and pulled out a file, a strange image immediately catching his eye.  “I’ve seen this before.”

 

Roxy leaned over to look.  “A picture of an eye?”

 

“Yeah.  Christ, where the fuck did I see it?”

 

Roxy tilted her head.  “It looks a bit like an emblem.  A company logo?”

 

_Envelope - navy blue cardstock, gold emblem with an eye,_ Eggsy’s brain supplied.  “Harry got a letter awhile back.  I remember, it had a wax seal.”  He tapped at the picture.  “It definitely had this image on it.”

 

“What was the letter about?”

 

He shook his head.  “Dunno.  Merlin seemed pretty fuckin’ mad to see it though.”

 

Roxy took hold of another file and flipped it open.  “It _is_ a logo.  A not-for-profit called ‘EyeSee.’”

 

“Icy?  Like as in freezing?”  Eggsy asked confused.

 

“No, two separate words.  As in ‘eye’, like the eyes you see with.”

 

“Oh,” he said after a pause.  “That’s confusing as fuck.”

 

“I know, they should really fire their marketing department.”

 

“So what’s Harry got to do with them?”

 

\---

 

It turns out that Doctor Harry Hart has _a lot_ to do with the EyeSee Foundation.  The majority of Harry’s surgical career has revolved around operating for free on patients with preventable blindness in numerous impoverished countries.  

 

After a brief internet search, they learn that the EyeSee Foundation focuses on treating preventable blindness, as well as other eye related problems, offering help for those who can’t afford or have access to basic eye care.  

 

Between Roxy, Eggsy and several cups of coffee, they manage to get through nearly the entire box of records.  

 

The only thing they manage to gather is that there are probably thousands of people who won’t go blind thanks to Harry’s surgical competence.  

 

Roxy put the file she was reading away with an abashed expression.  “I admittedly feel a bit guilty of suspecting him now.”

 

“Christ, his surgical career is _fucking immaculate_ ,” Eggsy replies in agreeance.

 

“And he’s travelled so extensively!  I think I counted something like twenty-two different countries in just the files I read.”

 

Eggsy nodded as he pulled out the last file.  “I don’t understand how he and Merlin make it work though.  I mean, judging by the dates on these, it’s like he’s almost _never_ in the UK.”

 

Roxy shrugged.  “Perhaps that’s why Merlin was so angry at seeing that letter?”

 

Eggsy considered it.  “Could be.”  He flipped open the last file.  

 

It was of Harry’s most recent work-related trip to Sierra Leone.  

 

The document had nearly been completely blacked out, barring a few words around the middle of the document.

 

_Church._

 

_One survivor._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I might've totally spaced out and forgotten to write this story. So sorry loves! I have reminders on my phone now to tell me write this one up. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, commenting, bookmarking and kudosing!


	13. Chapter 13

Harry had been sitting alone in the cramped interrogation room for a little under an hour as he debated on the merits of whether or not to call a lawyer.

 

 _They don’t have anything,_ the sensible part of his mind pointed out.   _Eggsy would know that, he’s a good investigator_.  

 

Not that he had anything to base that on.

 

 _Focus Harry._   _To lawyer up, or not lawyer up.  That is the question._

 

He fidgeted absent-mindedly.   _They won’t find anything_ , his mind repeated again.

 

The door suddenly flung open and a tall brunette brusquely entered the room.

 

He was holding a large stack of manila folders and was dressed in an undoubtedly expensive suit.  He had a judgemental sneer that Harry often associated with the unlikable rich and privileged.  

 

 _Wonderful,_ he thought bleakly.  “Good evening,” he said aloud.

 

The man said nothing in response, merely pulling out the chair opposite Harry and sitting himself down.  He placed the manila folders down neatly in front of him, before folding his hands together and fixing Harry with a bland stare.  “I’m Detective Hesketh.”

 

Harry had quickly decided that he was wasn’t overly fond of this particular detective.  “How can I be of assistance?”  

 

Detective Hesketh’s fixed gaze turned into an outright glare.  “Were you at the hospital on the night of January 11th?”

 

It was a leading question, which didn’t bode well for Harry at all.  He pressed his lips into a tight line.  “I was.”

 

\---

 

Eggsy stared down at the almost entirely blacked out file in his hands in dumbfounded disbelief.  “I’ve never seen anything this heavily redacted.”

 

Roxy hummed in agreement.  “Almost seems a waste to print it at all.”  She took the file from Eggsy’s hands to inspect it further.  “There must have been some serious issues privacy issues for it to be _this_ heavily redacted.”  She re-read the few visible lines left.  “ _Church.  One survivor._ ”

 

Eggsy felt his brow furrow as he tried to piece the few things he knew together in his sleep-deprived brain.  “Well, Harry’s obviously the one survivor in whatever the fuck this shit show was.”

 

Roxy dropped the file to the coffee table, leaning her propped elbow against the armchair, her palm pressed up against her tired head.  “You’re probably right,” she admitted between a poorly concealed yawn.  “But this doesn’t help with our Dean Baker case.  Regardless of what might’ve happened, Harry’s travel records still prove he was in the United Kingdom, still coinciding with the murders of the two latest Baker victims.”

 

Eggsy rubbed at his tired eyes.  “Yeah, you’re right.”

 

“It doesn’t help that the crime scene was right outside Harry’s office either.”

 

“Don’t mean he’s a murderer though.”

 

“Doesn’t mean we can rule him out either.”  She stood up and stretched.  “I’ll go make another pot of coffee.”

 

\---

 

Detective Hesketh slid a photo across the table.  “Do you recognise this man?”

 

Harry gave the photograph a cursory glance.  The face was bloated and littered with purple post-mortem bruising.  He could barely recognise it as human, let alone who it was.  He slid the photo back to the detective.  “No, I don't.”

 

\---

 

“Any ID on the other victim?”

 

Roxy poured Eggsy a fresh cup of coffee, before sitting herself back down, clutching her own hot coffee cup between her palms.  “No one's come forward with any information on our second vic.  I'm afraid he's just another Joe Bloggs at this point.”

 

Eggsy took a large sip of coffee from the one hand as he rustled for the second victim's file in a nearby box.  “How'd this one die?”

 

“Suffocated.  Had a plastic bag duct taped to his neck with his hands restrained behind his back.”

 

Eggsy pulled out the file he was after.  “What was he restrained with?”

 

“I found a sticky metallic residue on his wrists that matched the residue on his neck.”  Roxy sipped her coffee.  “I have reason to believe that it's electrical duct tape.”

 

He flipped open the file and inspected the victim’s photograph carefully.   The face was bloated and purple.  “Standard Dean Baker murder then.”

 

Roxy gave a conceding nod.  “That's what the evidence would suggest.”

 

“And what about Bill Reade?”

 

“Same thing, though both his eyes were shot out post-mortem.  Nothing new.”

 

\---

 

Detective Hesketh moved onto his next question.  “Did you have any problems with the now deceased Bill Reade?”

 

Harry shook his head.  “No.  He had requested for a second opinion regarding the treatment of the glaucoma in his left eye.”

 

\---

 

Eggsy suddenly stood and he plodded across the room, sidestepping the many boxes littered across his floor.  “What if we switch it around?”

 

Roxy frowned.  “I'm too sleep deprived to follow.”

 

He pulled out a folder.  “ _Bill Reade_ ,” he said in lieu of an actual explanation, as though it were an answer.

 

“Still too tired here.”

 

“I had thought that our Joe Bloggs was the target and Bill Reade just happened to witness it by mistake.”  He flicked through the file.  “What if Bill Reade was the target?”

 

Roxy paused.  “Why would he be the target?”

 

“It says in his file that he was last seen leaving Doctor Hart’s office for a consultation regarding glaucoma in his left eye.”

 

“ _And_?”

 

Eggsy dropped the file into Roxy’s lap, already pulling out his phone to make a call.  “Bill Reade was asking for a _second opinion._ ”

 

\---

 

“Where were you between-”  The detective froze, when his phone audibly vibrated in his pocket.  He glanced at the caller ID and immediately disconnected the call.  He placed the phone face down atop the table and mumbled a hurried apology before continuing.  “Where were you-?”

 

His phone vibrates loudly against the table with another call.  He disconnected it again.

 

Another call.  He disconnects it.

 

Another call.  He disconnects it.

 

Another -

 

“Perhaps you should just answer it,” suggested Harry with a bemused expression.

 

Detective Hesketh looked annoyed.  He picked up his phone to look at the screen.  

 

A message from Eggy Unwin.

 

**_PICK UP THE PHONE NOW_ **

 

His phone vibrates again.  Another message from Eggy Unwin.

 

**_Also it’s Eggsy not Eggy, you wanker_ **

 

He narrows his eyes at the messages before clearing his throat.  “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

 

He’s already exited the room before Harry has had a chance to reply.

 

\---

 

“Miss me Charlie?”

 

“What do you want, Unwin?” he growled into the receiver.  “I’m in the middle of something.”

 

“Sure you are,” Eggsy deadpanned on the other end.  “Bet you’re making a fuckload of progress.”

 

Charlie started indignantly.  “I’ll have you know that I-”

 

“What were the results?” interrupted Eggsy.

 

“What the fuck are you on about?”

 

“What were the results?” Eggsy repeated in a deliberately slow manner.

 

He felt his eyebrows knit in confusion.  “What results?”

 

“To Bill Reade’s consultation,” explained Eggsy, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.  “Bill Reade wanted a second opinion on his diagnosis.   _What were the results_?”

 

Charlie paused.  “Well, I was just about to ask him that.”

 

“Sure you were.”

 

“I was!” he lied.

 

“Whatever,” replied Eggsy with an eye roll Charlie couldn’t see.  “Oh, and don’t forget the other thing.”

 

Charlie frowned.  “What other thing?”

 

“The bit where you’re a wanker.”

 

“Fuck you, Unwin!”

 

\---

 

Detective Hesketh stalked back into the small room.  “What were the results?”

 

Harry blinked at the sudden change of subject.  “I beg your pardon?”

 

“What were the results to Bill Reade’s consultation?”

 

Harry frowned as his brain scrambled to recall the details.  “I hadn’t finished all my tests to confirm anything.”

 

Detective Hesketh pursed his lips, as though trying to work out another way to ask the same question.  “In your opinion, what do you think the results were?”

 

“In my opinion,” he began carefully, “Hyperthyroidism.  I had initially thought it was the result of misdiagnosed Graves’ disease, however I am currently of the opinion that Bill Reade had unfortunately developed thyroid cancer over time.”

 

Detective Hesketh sat down slowly, as though realising something.  “Did he know?”

 

Harry shook his head.  “For years he was only being treated for what was thought to be glaucoma.  I was still in the midst of doing tests to check for cance-”

 

“Who was the first doctor?”

 

Harry’s head was beginning to spin from the seemingly nonsensical barrage of questions.  “My colleague: Doctor Chester King.”

 

Detective Hesketh left the room again, phone already in hand.

 

Harry sighed.  He really should have just called a lawyer to begin with.

 

\---

 

Roxy answered her phone.  “Doctor Morton speaking?”

 

“I need you to check if Bill Reade had cancer,” said Charlie without preamble.

 

“Did he say please?” he could hear Eggsy ask in the background.  “I wouldn’t do it if he didn’t say please.”

 

“Fuck you Unwin!” he shouted into the receiver.

 

“Oh yeah, definitely wouldn’t do it now.”

 

“The both of you are fucking children, honestly,” she mumbled under her breath.  “I’ll run the tests first thing in the morning,” she confirmed to Charlie before hanging up.

 

\---

 

Detective Hesketh re-entered the room.  “You’re free to go.”

 

Harry blinked.  “I am?  That’s it?”

 

“For now,” the detective replied as he texted someone from his phone.  “Don’t leave the country any time soon, I might be in touch.”

 

The door shut close and Harry was left alone in the small interrogation room once again.

 

“Right then.”

 

\---

 

Roxy stared into her non-empty coffee cup.  “So what’s your theory now, Detective?”

 

Eggsy stretched before flopping back into his armchair.  “Fatal misdiagnosis leads doctor to arrange hit on dying patient.  Attempts to murder colleague.  Fails.  Attempts to frame colleague.”  

  
“Well, fingers crossed that Harry’s in the clear for now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! Can't apologise enough for how late and er, not-very-good this is. I think my hair went white trying to fix this story.
> 
> Thanks for reading, commenting, kudos-ing and not being too mad at how terribly this late this! Hugs and kisses for all


	14. Chapter 14

Harry leaned his head against his office desk, officially feeling like an absolute wreck.

 

“It's really not a trip back home until you've wound up arrested or in hospital with you, is it?”

 

Harry didn't lift his head.  “Believe it or not Merlin, trouble tends to find _me_ , not the other way around.”

 

“You keep telling yourself that.”  He could hear Merlin take the opposite seat of his desk.  “So I take it that you're not going to prison?”

 

“Not today, I'm afraid.”

 

“Shame.”

 

Harry lifted his head.  “Fuck you,” he replied with no real malice.

 

Merlin shrugged, not in the slightest bit affected.  “What are you doing back at work?”

 

Harry straightened and reached for his laptop, remembering _why_ he had driven back to work in the first place.  “I wanted to check on some results. “

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow.  “It couldn't wait until morning?”  He paused, realising that it was, in fact, 2am.  “And by that I mean a _sensible_ time in the morning?”

 

Harry deftly tapped against his keyboard.  “Let’s just say my interest was piqued.”

 

“A matter of life or death then?”

 

Harry scanned his eyes over the results.  “Not really.”

 

“What's that supposed to mean?”

 

“Can it be life or death if the patient is already dead?”

 

Merlin raised both his eyebrows.  “Harry, what in hell are you looking for?”

 

Harry stopped typing and flipped his laptop screen.  “Cancer.”

 

Merlin stared back at what appeared to be test results.  “And?”

 

Harry crossed his arms.  “And what can you tell me about Doctor Chester King?”

 

\---

 

Roxy sighed, exasperated.  “Not all doctors know each other, Eggsy.”

 

Eggsy grumbled and crossed his arms.  “What the fuck's the point of having you as a doctor friend if I can't go around accusing all your doctor friends of murder?”

 

She shook her head.  “Most people just want to _date_ my doctor friends, you know.”

 

“Eh, doctors are overrated,” he replied with a flippant wave.  “Gimmie someone who cooks any day.”

 

She raised a smug eyebrow.  “Like Harry?”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

\---

 

It was a little after 4am when Harry pulled up to his driveway and instantly spotted Doctor Morton’s vehicle in the driveway of Eggsy’s home.  

 

He was really too old to be feeling as jealous as he did.  

 

_Don’t be ridiculous, Harry.  There’s nothing to be done._

 

He had been staring vacantly into Eggsy’s front yard when Doctor Morton exited through the front door, looking enviously young and fresh despite the early hour.  He had to concede that Doctor Morton and Eggsy made quite the match.

 

He was just going to have to settle for being happy for the young couple.

 

He blinked.  He had an idea.

 

\---

 

“Doctor Morton?”

 

Roxy glanced up from her phone and up at Doctor Hart, who was just exiting from out his car.  “Good morning Doctor Hart,” she said, a touch surprised.  

 

“Good morning,” he replied politely.  He was holding a navy blue envelope in one hand.  

 

“I’m actually just off to work at the moment,” she added with a slight grimace.  “You know doctor hours.  I currently have an early shift.”

 

“That I do,” he replied with a chuckle.  “The late shift is no better.”

 

She shrugged.   “How can I help?”

 

Harry extended the navy blue envelope to her.  “I thought you may be interested in attending an upcoming gala I have spare tickets to.”  He tilted his head slightly towards Eggsy’s house.  “You would be allowed a plus one, of course.  I think you two might enjoy it.”

 

She took the envelope, quickly recognising the symbol on the ornate wax seal.  It was from the EyeSee Foundation.  “That’s very kind of you.”

 

“I do apologise for the short notice.  I had meant to ask Eggsy earlier but…”  He trailed off sheepishly.  “Well, my car exploded.”

 

She smiled encouragingly.  “It’s a very good excuse at least.  How are your stitches?”

 

He gave a one-shouldered shrug on his good side.  “Itchy and damned tempting to pick at, but otherwise fine.”  He took a step back and gestured back to the envelope.  “I should let you go.  Please don’t feel pressured to attend if you don’t wish to, just leave your RSVP with Eggsy and I can sort out the rest.”

 

\---

 

Eggsy had been sleeping on his living room couch when his phone abruptly buzzed.  He blindly reached for it and unlocked it.

 

A message from Roxy.  She had sent him a link to a website.

 

He sat up, rubbing at his eyes before clicking on it.  

 

**_EyeSee Foundation Sesquicentennial Dinner.  Black tie event._ **

 

Eggsy frowned, scrolling through the site until a name caught this eye.

 

**_Guest speaker: Doctor Chester King_ **

  
His phone buzzed again with another message from Roxy.

She had sent a selfie of herself, holding a navy blue envelope with an unmistakably recognisable gold wax seal.

_Guess whose doctor friend knows Chester King?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for still reading this silly thing! I was honestly expecting a shoe to be thrown at me, along with a calendar and a clock and a message that said "do you have any idea of how late you are?"
> 
> Anyway, thank you all so much for reading, commenting and kudos-ing, it really made my day to see the support. :) Hugs and kisses for all!


	15. Chapter 15

The wait staff at the cafe were all pointedly avoiding one particularly heated table of three.

 

“You can’t go to the dinner, you’re on leave!”

 

“Naw Charlie, you just jealous you weren’t invited?”

 

Charlie looked positively scathing.  “There’s no way the Captain will agree to this.”

 

Eggsy shrugged.  “It’s either have me undercover or have no one investigating at all.”

 

“Excuse me,” piped Roxy, “But  _ I’ll _ be there.”

 

“I know, and you’re fantastic Rox,” Eggsy amended hastily.  

 

“Just you wait,” said Charlie with a shake of his head, “He’s about to throw in a  _ ‘but _ .’”

 

“ _ But  _ go fuck yourself, Charlie,” said Eggsy, before turning to Roxy somewhat placatingly.  “And Rox, you’re a  _ coroner _ .”

 

Charlie snorted.  “D’you hear the implied ‘ _ but _ ’?”

 

“I’ll give you an  _ implied but, asshole-! _ ”

 

“Fucking keep it down, both of you!” shouted Roxy over the both of them.  “Christ, it’s like working with children!”

 

There was a brief moment of silence before they all immediately shouted over each other.

 

“There’s no fucking way that the Captain’ll approve your going undercover!  No way, it’s not going to happen!”

 

“I’m going fucking mental, I need to do this!  I need to do some actual police work before I lose my shit!”

 

“Just because my main clientele is dead, doesn’t mean that I’m not  _ perfectly capable _ of gathering intel at  _ some dinner party _ !”

 

There’s a small cough and the trio snap their heads to stare at the poor, timid waiter, clutching at their notepad and pen with a fearful look in their eyes.

 

They all smile politely.

 

“Double espresso, if you will,” says Charlie.

 

“Strong skinny latte, thanks,” says Eggsy.

 

“Cappuccino, please,” says Roxy.

 

The waiter scribbled the order down, turned their back and flinched when the trio immediately resumed arguing.

 

\---

 

Merlin glanced up from his tablet surprised.  “What are you doing on this side of the wing? Your office is well on the other side.”

 

If Harry was surprised, he didn’t show it.  A manila folder was tucked under his arm. “I’ve lost my bearings.”

 

“I’ve watched you give accurate directions _ blind drunk _ to Chinese tourists in fluent Mandarin,” said Merlin.

 

“So?”

 

“So I call horseshit.”  He crossed his arms. “What are you up to?”

 

“Nothing,” Harry replied defensively.

 

A pause.

 

“Well, actually, now that you mention it-”

 

“Oh here we go,” interjected Merlin with an eyeroll. 

 

“Would you know where Doctor King’s office is?”

 

Merlin frowned.  “ _ Why _ ?”

 

“I’m finalising the paperwork for Bill Reade’s file,” said Harry with a shrug.  “I just wanted to clarify some notes with Doctor King should the police require it.”

 

It sounded like a plausible enough reason, though Merlin found himself suspicious of his friend.  “Did they ask you to?”

 

“Just doing my due diligence.”

 

Merlin had a feeling that he was going to regret this.  “It’s eight doors down, on the left.”

 

\---

 

There were numerous coffee cups on the table.  

 

Charlie blearily rubbed at his eyes.  “It’s not gonna happen.”

 

“Yes it is,” Eggsy replied tiredly.

 

Roxy had sunk herself into her seat, her eyes directed at the ceiling.  “I don’t even remember what we were arguing about.”

 

“Neither do I, but I think I’m winning,” says Charlie with a slight tired groan.

 

There’s a brief silence that lingers long enough for Charlie to consider that perhaps he actually  _ was  _ winning.  He flashes Eggsy a look, until the man in question seems to collect himself.

 

“Get fucked, Charlie.”

 

Charlie groaned.  “And we're back to square one.”  He tapped at the table, increasingly tapping louder and louder until he was eighty percent sure Eggsy was going to throttle his neck from across the table.  Eggsy had suddenly stood, his hands hovering when Charlie had a thought. “Why don't you use Harry for information? As bait?”

 

Were it not for the witnesses, Eggsy would have strangled him.  “I'm not going to use a civilian as bait.”

 

“I meant with his consent.”

 

“What part of  _ I'm not going to use a civilian as bait  _ did you not understand?”

 

“Actually-”

 

Eggs turned to look at Roxy, slack-jawed.  “Not you too, Rox.”

 

She had pursed her lips, her expression apologetic.  “I doubt he would be in any danger. It's a black tie charity function for wealthy donors and doctors.  Definitely not the most dangerous crowd out there.”

 

Eggsy crossed his arms.  “Doctors have scalpels and the wealthy can pay people to do their dirty work for them.  Not to mention that I’ve got two murder victims and one attempted murder. Sounds plenty dangerous to me.”

 

“So we’ll up security with some of our own police constables.  Get them to work with the security they've undoubtedly already booked in to ensure loads of money doesn't go missing.”

 

Eggsy gave Roxy a long, doubtful look.

 

“ _ You’ll  _ be there too,” Roxy finally said.  “You wouldn't let anything happen to Harry, would you?”

 

His answer was immediate.  “God  _ fucking no _ .”  

 

“Jeez, you must really want to bone this guy, Eggy.”

 

“Okay, that’s it.” Eggsy stood, his hands outstretched to throttle Charlie from across the table.

 

Charlie immediately pushed his chair back, just out of Eggsy’s reach.

 

And then Eggsy leapt.

 

There was a spectacular sounding crash and the poor remaining staff members of the cafe stared on with dumbfounded dismay.

 

Roxy flashed them a bright smile and raised her hand, ignoring that Eggsy was holding Charlie in a headlock mere feet away.  “May I have the bill please?”

 

\---

 

Harry had been a mere few paces from Doctor Chester King’s office when he overheard a one-sided conversation.  It sounded as though Doctor King was on the phone.

 

“Look,” Doctor King said angrily, “Just make sure the catering is ready, alright?”

 

Harry then nearly walked into the very man head on.

 

“Doctor Harry Hart!” the other Doctor beamed cheerfully.  He hung up his mobile phone. “Just the man I was looking for!”

 

Harry hadn't been expecting that.  “Oh,” he sputtered awkwardly. “Hello.”

 

“I'm Doctor Chester King,” said the elderly man, his hand extended out.  “It's an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

 

Harry fumbled with Bill Reade’s file, tucking it under an arm to shake Doctor King’s.  “Likewise.” Harry was suddenly unsure how to bring up Reade’s fatal misdiagnosis to the seemingly pleasant man who hadn't yet released his hand.  He cleared his throat. “Was there something you wanted to speak to me about?”

 

Doctor King, to Harry's relief, relinquished his hand to procure a familiar navy blue invitation from his jacket pocket.  It was an invitation to the EyeSee foundation. “I'm an organiser for EyeSee’s Sesquicentennial Dinner. Will you be attending?”

 

“Yes, I will be.”

 

“Excellent news!”  Doctor King tapped the invitation against Harry's arm affably.  “My head speaker has dropped out, struck down by the flu. I was wondering if you would be so kind to fill in the spot.”

 

Harry blinked.  “You want me to give a speech?  About what?”

 

“Oh you know,” Doctor King gave a flippant wave, “Your travels, your successful surgeries, the simplicities and complexities, the occasional hint to raise money - that sort of thing.”

 

Harry tried not to pull a face.  “I'm not sure I'm the best person for this.”

 

“Nonsense!  I can't think of anyone better to rise to the occasion.  I’ll also be doing a speech, if that’s any sort of consolation.”  Doctor King gave a hopeful smile. “Will you do it? I would forever be in your debt.”

 

Harry could only nod, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

 

“Anyway, I'll be sure to find you at the function.”  Doctor King's affability had abruptly faded away, his previous irritable countenance returning.  “I have a patient to rush to. Good to see you, Doctor Hart.”

 

Harry managed a hasty smile to Doctor King's retreating form before he spared a glance back at Bill Reade’s file.  He would have to question Doctor King later.

 

\---

 

Roxy had draped herself over the settee outside the men’s store change rooms, as she idly scrolled through her emails as Eggsy tried on his fourteenth blazer/dress pant combination.  She had grown comfortable in her makeshift cushion of ‘failed’ combinations.

 

“So what’re you gonna wear to the event?” asked Eggsy from inside the change room. 

 

“Oh I’m sure I have something lying around,” she replied while answering a few easy emails. “Honestly Eggsy, are we going to be here much longer?  It’s been over an hour!”

 

“Calm your tits, I waited over two hours in line with you to get that fancy sourdough you like.”

 

“You ate half of it!”

 

“Because I  _ waited two-fucking-hours _ and got  _ hungry _ !”

 

He abruptly stepped out of the change room, sporting a bright orange blazer, black dress pants and a very smug expression.  Combined the vision was an assault to the senses. 

 

“I’ve found the one,” said Eggsy.

 

“ _ That, _ ” Roxy began, “Is  _ literally _ the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ve seen you put a man’s intestines into a tub, how can this  _ literally  _ be the worst thing you’ve ever seen?”

 

“It’s orange.”

 

“Oh, fuck you.”  He fiddled with the cuffs of his white shirt.  “What cufflinks should I wear with this?”

 

“Go for a plain black enamel knot.  I think I saw them on level three. I also saw a window on the eighth floor that you can fling that orange monstrosity out of.”

 

He nodded, unfazed, agreeing with the cufflinks and nothing else.  “You’re meant to love me unconditionally, Rox,” he says with feigned hurt.

 

“And I did,” she says with a conceding nod.  “Right up until you assaulted my eyes with  _ that _ .” 

 

“Fuck you, I bet you ten quid that I can get at least one genuine compliment about the blazer.”

 

She scoffed.  “If someone gives you a genuine compliment in that  _ thing _ , you should hold on and never let go.”

 

\---

 

It was a little past 7PM and Eggsy was sat on his couch, pondering the small RSVP card laid out on the coffee table.  There were only three options to select from:  _ attending _ ,  _ unable to attend  _ or  _ other _ .  There was a space next to  _ other _ that was sorely tempting to write in, given the extenuating and increasingly odd circumstances he had found himself in.

 

He considered writing  _ Attending, but purely for police business. _

 

Or, perhaps more honestly,

 

_ Attending, but purely for police business and the sheer curiosity of seeing Doctor Hart in formal wear. _

 

Eggsy absent-mindedly tapped his pen against his knee.  He couldn’t in his right mind RSVP without explaining the hopefully subtle police stake out that would take place on the same night.  Not to mention if Harry was, as Charlie had crassly put it earlier, was to be bait for god knows who.

 

Eggsy sighed, swiping the RSVP from off the table and pocketing it.  He walked to his window and, at seeing Harry’s rental car in the driveway and the front window light on, made a decision.

 

\---

 

“‘Evening Harry!”  Eggsy greeted cheerfully, stood outside Harry’s front door.

 

Harry must have been in the middle of cooking dinner, judging by the navy blue apron and his rolled up shirt sleeves.  The white bandage covering the stitches of his left arm were in full view. Something smelt utterly heavenly. “Good evening Eggsy.”

 

“I wanted to talk to you about something, if you don’t mind.”

 

“Would you like to come in?”  Harry stepped aside slightly.

 

Eggsy, tempted, almost walked right in to follow the lingering smell of what was surely a gourmet meal.  “I better not, it smells too good to be true in there.”

 

“I was just making fusilli with broccollini, cavolo nero and truffle oil.”

 

Eggsy gave Harry a look.  “ _ Just _ making something that has at least five fictional ingredients is like my definition of _too good to be true_.”

 

Harry was aghast, albeit in a friendly way.  “You think  _ broccollini  _ is fictional?”

 

“When it’s preceded by something called  _ fusilli _ , yeah.”

 

There was suddenly the distinct sound of water bubbling over and hitting the gas flame below it.  The sound was undoubtedly coming from the kitchen.

 

“I don’t suppose you'd mind if we spoke in my kitchen so I can save said  _ fusilli? _ ”

 

\---

 

Eggsy somehow found himself stirring a pot of pasta as Harry roughly chopped the cavolo nero.  It turned out  _ fusilli  _ wasn’t as mystical as it sounded.  It was just spiral pasta.

 

On their way to the kitchen, Eggsy couldn’t help but take the opportunity to snoop about.  Harry and Merlin’s townhouse had simple furnishings, but in that ‘well made’ way that gave Eggsy the sneaking suspicion that everything was expensive.  The hallway was lined with abstract but beautiful artworks, all in uniform sized frames, which gave the house an ordered appearance. Eggsy got the distinct feeling that the house insurance premiums alone would equal his fortnightly pay check.  There were subtle touches of personal effects strewn about on floating shelves and side tables, mostly a combination of books on various topics. 

 

He also managed to spot a few framed photographs of Merlin and an elderly couple that appeared to be Merlin’s parents.  Eggsy couldn’t help but note the complete lack of photographs of Merlin and Harry. 

 

“What was it you wished to speak about?” asked Harry, as he used his kitchen knife to swipe the cavolo nero into a heated pan.

 

“Dinner,” Eggsy answered unthinkingly.  At Harry’s questioning look, he re-clarified.  “Not _this_ dinner! I meant the fancy dinner, the one you gave Rox an invitation to.”

 

“Ah.”  Harry had added in what appeared to be prosciutto to the pan and Eggsy was suddenly finding it hard to focus by the smell and the irritating feeling of watching someone attractive cook well.  “Will you two be attending?”

 

“That all depends on you actually.”

 

Harry continued to cook absent-mindedly.  “How so?”

 

Eggsy carefully gauged Harry’s reaction.  “Would you know anyone who goes by the name Chester King?”

 

Harry paused for a moment, before he continued to stir the ingredients in the pan.  “It’s odd that you mention that name. I actually, almost quite literally, ran into the very man at work today.”

 

“No shit.”

 

“Well, no.”  Harry turned the heat down low, before reaching to check a pot quietly simmering away at the broccollini.  “I had actually been looking for him, so I could discuss the handover notes for when Bill Reade became my patient."

 

“Did you get a chance to discuss it?”

 

“No, he seemed busy.  I overheard part of his conversation when I was walking by.  He had been at the end of expressing his frustrations at the state of the dinner’s catering.”  Harry fell quiet and Eggsy couldn’t help but observe the slight sag in Harry’s shoulders.

 

“Anything else?” he prompted.

 

“It seems that I’ve been roped into making a speech,” Harry replied miserably.

 

Eggsy snorted.  “Not a fan of public speaking?”

 

“I was rather hoping to eat obscene amounts of food and drink copious amounts of alcohol.  You know, the standard treatment of dealing with one’s sorrows.”

 

Eggsy was genuinely curious.  “And what sorrows might that be?”

 

A blank mask fell over Harry’s face and Eggsy quickly realised, albeit too late, that he may have overstepped.

 

Harry strained the pasta before adding it to the cavolo nero and prosciutto mixture.  “What does this all have to do with your possible attendance?” asked Harry.

 

Eggsy should have thought of what he had intended to say before coming here.  “I’m after more information on Doctor King.”

 

“You can’t simply question him?”

 

“I wouldn’t want to without substantial evidence.  Without substantial evidence or proof to the contrary, I have reasonable doubts that Doctor King wouldn’t speak to me honestly.”  Eggsy grimaced slightly at what he needed to say next. “Which is sort of where you come in, Harry.”

 

Harry strained the broccollini before adding it into the rest of the pasta mixture.  “You want me to speak to him?”

 

“While wearing a wire,” Eggsy added.  “It would be in regards to Bill Reade’s file and Doctor King’s diagnosis of him.”

 

“You want me to do this at the dinner party,” Harry correctly deduced.

 

“We would have a team to ensure your safety should you, in the very unlikely case, require extraction.”  Eggsy paused, expecting Harry to say something, only to find that he didn't.  “I would also be there to walk you through anything, if you needed it.”  Harry still hadn’t said anything. “Anyway, I’ll let you think about it. You can call me about it whenever, I’ll just show myself out-”

 

“I’ll do it.”

 

It was said so casually over pasta that Eggsy thought he had misheard.  “Sorry?”

 

“I’ll do it,” Harry repeated.  “I’d like this to all to be over, if it’s all the same to you.”

 

“Right,” Eggsy bleated.  “Right, well, good. Okay.”  There was a moment, but Eggsy eventually found himself breathing out a sigh of relief.  “I’m glad to hear that.”

 

“Because you’d like to catch a potential murderer?”

 

“Nah,” replied Eggsy, suddenly feeling the need to make the moment lighter.  “I put down a deposit for the sickest orange blazer you’ll ever see.”

 

Harry raised his eyebrows.  “You bought an orange blazer to a  _ black tie _ event?”

 

Eggsy froze.  He hadn’t considered that.

 

Harry shrugged.  “I’ve never really cared for such formalities anyway.  I look forward to seeing you in it.”  He paused.  “Granted, the orange blazer may be the  _ only  _ thing I see in a sea of black suits.”

 

  
Eggsy tried not to beam at that.  “Well, if it all goes tits up,  _ which it won’t _ , at least you’ll know where to find me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ........... better late than never?
> 
> I, if you couldn't tell, had a tough time with this chapter and I have endless apologies for all the poor souls who read this thing. Thank you all for the kudos', bookmarks and comments, it somehow kept me going despite however long ago I last updated this. Hugs for you all!


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